


Riversong

by ViridianJane



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: A little bit of comfort, A little bit of hurt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 05:51:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14278269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridianJane/pseuds/ViridianJane
Summary: Merlin's hands are soaked in blood; poison seeps under his nails and turns his dreams against him. He's killed with these hands. He's held death between them and couldn’t bring himself to mourn when he felt nothing inside of him shatter.But Merlin's hands are also loving.





	Riversong

**Author's Note:**

> Title from A Fine Frenzy's 'Riversong'
> 
>  
> 
> _You cannot catch the river though_  
>  _It makes you think you can_  
>  _It trickles through your fingers_  
>  _While you hold it in your hands_  
>  _Just like I am_  
>  _Just like I am_  
>  _Just like I am_  
>  _Just like I am_

Merlin's hands are rough; calluses thicken his palms and numb his fingertips. He no longer gets blisters from scrubbing the floor, and he doesn't blink an eye at the prospect of burning his hands raw if it means he is serving his king.

Merlin's hands are scarred; layers upon layers upon layers of sacrifice. He can no longer use the fourth and fifth finger on his left hand, the consequence of a knife pulling too hard and too deep at the hands of a faceless enemy.

Merlin's hands are soaked in blood; poison seeps under his nails and turns his dreams against him. He's killed with these hands. He's held death between them and couldn’t bring himself to mourn when he felt nothing inside of him shatter.

But Merlin's hands are also loving.

The moment between the inhale after the first birdsong and the exhale before the first light of day, Merlin knows his hands can love.

Gwaine sleeps deeply and fully at his side, his warmth permeating under seas of blankets and seeping through naked skin. He has no dark shadows under his eyes and no stuttered breath, completely at peace with Merlin in his bed.

Merlin reaches out to touch him, lays a hand over his heart. It beats regularly, slowly: a soothing balm for Merlin’s broken spirit.

Gwaine shifts, hair falling over his forehead and hiding his eyes; Merlin reaches up to brush it aside. Unconsciously, Gwaine follows Merlin's hand, lips barely touching a kiss to his skin, nosing the line of his heart. He breathes deeply, awake now, and opens his eyes as Merlin tucks his hair behind his ear.

For all that Gwaine might charm and bedevil his way through the day and late into the night, the mornings are quiet. There are no adequate words to describe what this moment means to the both of them.  

_We're alive, we're together. Time and war has not separated us, yet._

Gwaine shuffles closer, snaking an arm around Merlin's waist, pulling him flush against him and smiling an apology into his hair when his chin knocks Merlin’s brow. Merlin tucks his head into the crook of Gwaine's neck, presses a kiss to the warm spot just behind his ear.

He runs his hands down Gwaine's back, feeling every ridge of his spine, the waves of muscle, the warmth of his skin, and thinks, _I can love._

_I am loved._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you Peach, always.


End file.
